


Loss & Gain

by 13thSyndicate



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: "Modern" AU, AU, Cancer, Domesticity, F/M, Fluff, Happy AU, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, There is no magic, Wedding, a relationship captured in moments, basically this is an AU where nobody dies, except Regis, most other things are pretty much the same, relationship, there is no war with Niflheim, tw: family death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8951101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13thSyndicate/pseuds/13thSyndicate
Summary: "I’m finally here, he thinks, and, I’m getting married. It hasn’t sunk in yet, but she has."When Noctis docks in Altissia and meets Luna, it's everything he pictured. Their life together, however, holds a few surprises for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aesir23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aesir23/gifts).



> This takes place ostensibly in the same universe/continuity as Never, though it's up to the reader whether the events of that story are canon to this one; each is completely standalone and can be read separately of each other.

She’s _beautiful._

That’s the first thing Noctis can think of when he sees the figure waiting for him. She’s standing on the docks in something white and Prompto’s elbow is digging into his side and somebody – _Gladio, it must be Gladio, not even Ignis is tall enough to do it this effortlessly_ – is thumping him on the top of the head and messing with his hair, and none of it matters. She stands there, with a smile on her face, trying not to laugh as his three companions tease him, and she is the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen.

They wrote, of course. They’ve written all these years, and he’s seen photos, but they’re photos. They’re not life. They’re not breathing and smiling with the sun in their hair and their eyes, they’re not lit up as though the gods themselves dispensed a special sunbeam, just for them. He hears the jokes – loverboy, not paying attention, earth to Noctis – and he doesn’t care.

The ship docks. For a moment, he continues to stand, breathless, motionless, with the waves gently rolling the boat beneath his feet. Then Gladio’s oversized hand is shoving him forward with words of encouragement he barely hears. He stumbles, and a breaker causes the boat to rock, and he nearly falls over, flat on his face. He’s blushing red and furious at himself – because, really, what kind of first impression was _that?_ – but then his feet are on solid ground, and they are just inches apart. He says her name, every syllable of it, the whole thing, tasting it on his tongue – Lunafreya Nox Fleuret – but then he laughs, because… because… because it’s _funny,_ because this isn’t some noblewoman, some distant marble statue from a foreign land. He says her name again, the one she gave him when he was too small and hurt and frightened to wrap tongue and mind around the syllables.

Luna.

Her answering smile is everything he never knew he needed in life, until this moment.

She replies with his own name in the same manner, savoring every word and letter of his full name and title, Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum the One-Hundred And Fourteenth, and he feels his face turn even redder. That name has never felt like _his name_ , but when she says it… when she says it, it doesn’t feel quite as much like _not_ his name as it usually did. Then her smile widens and the name falling from her lips is more familiar, a happy, contented _Noctis_ and while it’s not the short, friendly _Noct_ he usually prefers, it’s just as good, because it’s _her._

Her voice isn’t quite how he remembers; she’s a woman now, and not a child, and her voice is the same, grown, like every part of her. It’s beautiful, like every part of her. He knows he’s standing there like an idiot with a grin on his face and he doesn’t _care._ She’s _here._

Prompto and Gladio fade out. He reaches out to take her hands and falls into deep blue eyes and almost drowns there. She says how glad she is that he’s here, and he echoes her sentiment, tongue-tied.  Her hands in his are soft, slender; in some ways, it’s as though he’s touching a ghost.

 _I’m finally here_ , he thinks, and, _I’m getting married._ It hasn’t sunk in yet, but _she_ has. Right here. Waiting for him. Her voice calls him back to reality, a soft, almost teasing edge to it. It’s a side of her he knows he’s privileged to see; her letters are full of talk about duty and her people and the future of their kingdoms, but also soft, gentle insecurities, subtle laughter. This is Luna, his friend. He is her confidante, and it’s a position he is so, so privileged to have. He steps aside, but leaves his hand in hers, and introduces them all.

Prompto is flushing and nervous, and he can’t resist a grin as his friend awkwardly shakes hands with his fiancée (his fiancée!) and mumbles out a nice-to-meet-you. Gladio is much more formal, his Crownsguard training shining through as he bows and expresses hopes that Luna will trust him as much as Noct does, that Luna will take care of Noct in her own way. Then, after all of that, he ruins the image by breaking out into a grin and calling Noct a lucky son-of-a-gun and the prince has to resist the urge to punch his friend in front of his bride-to-be.

His bride-to-be, he can’t get over the flavor of how those words sound in his head. They seemed remote and vaguely terrifying, on his way here, but now that he has a Luna to match with them, they seem like such a promising little thing. Her hand in his is warm. He likes the feel of it; it matches the heat in his cheeks as he glances at her and sees her smiling back.

Ignis is just as formal as Gladio with Luna, effortlessly blending advisor and friend into a single role as he speaks. Noct simply stands there, smiling, holding Luna’s hand like it’s his reason for living. He’s not entirely sure, at this point, that it isn’t. Introductions made, the five of them walk the streets of Altissia to their hotel, thevenue of their wedding and where they would stay until it was done. The boys hang back, leaving their prince some room to catch up with Luna, and it feels good. They talk the whole way there, plans, feelings, reveling in the sounds of each others’ voices, and Noct barely catches, out of the corner of his eye, the smiles being exchanged behind his back.

The wedding is in a week’s time, and he spends most of it with Luna.

He spends some time with his friends as well, Prompto dragging him off for photos in front of famous landmarks and Ignis making a tour of the city’s food stalls serve double duty, buying and examining the freshest market produce as he lectures Noct on the responsibilities of having a bride. As advisor and personal chef for the prince, he offers to become the first member of their household, but Noct isn’t sure he can see his friend as a servant, not now or ever. Right hand to the king, perhaps, but it will be a long time before Noctis is king, gods willing. Gladio makes sure he lives the fine life in the last few days before marriage, and makes equally sure he’s working it all off with training sessions and long walks – but Noct spends most of it with Luna.

They stroll along the byways and canals, take rides in gondolas, hand in hand and blissfully ignoring the stares and whispers from the citizens who recognize them as they chat. They talk about their future and the ties binding Tenebrae and Lucis together; they talk about all the years that have passed since they saw each other. Noct admits that he’s afraid, to go back to the Citadel, to take up the duty of Prince again. He’s spent a long time running from his father’s illness and his own responsibilities. She doesn’t lecture him, like Ignis might; he’s grateful for that. He tells her that living as a normal citizen has taught him so much about his people; she tells him she wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if they must live in the Citadel – which there’s no law that says they have to until Noctis is crowned king – they can still go out and be among their people.

Noctis says he’s never seen his father among his subjects. It surprises him, because King Regis has always had a respect for the common man. He wonders if it has to do with the king’s illness; cancer seems to have sapped the man’s will along with his strength. Luna places a hand over Noct’s and tells him that it’s okay to grieve. It’s not until several hours later that he takes her up on the offer, sitting on a bench and looking out over the water as sunset gives way to moonlight; he closes his eyes, opens his mouth, and lets it out. The anger at his father, the gods, doctors who can’t do anything to stop the progress of the disease – the fear of watching a man he loves and respects more than anything in the world waste away and die by inches day after day. Her hand clutches his as words become sobs and the Prince of Lucis lays all bare before his bride-to-be.

She says they’ll find a house in the city and live there until Regis passes and Noctis is crowned, but she also promises that they’ll find the time to make happy memories with him before the end. His regrets and fears that he didn’t even know he had before now are laid bare and made known to him with the statement; he nods, softly, solemnly, and leans gently against her, and they watch the moon rise over the ocean in the silence after sadness.

The day of the wedding comes all too soon.

Noct isn’t ready. He _can’t_ be ready, not to stand up in front of the whole world and be joined to Luna forever. Luna, the radiant, the beautiful, the person he loves more than anything else, and he is frantic, and panicked, and certain that somewhere, somehow, this is all a big mistake. Not because he doesn’t love her – he does – and not because he doesn’t want to marry her – more than anything, he does – but because… because… because Luna _deserves better._ He blurts this out to Ignis, who is fixing the lapel on his suit, the decorative sash of rank across his chest, and Ignis reminds him, gently, that he is the _crown prince of Lucis._ Noctis shakes his head, because those words have never meant anything to him, and tries to figure out how to explain to his straitlaced retainer that Luna deserves happiness, strength, grace, all the things he feels he lacks. She deserves an emperor of Heaven and Earth, not a prince who’s spent his life shirking duties and who fumbles through even the simplest of speeches and who, he is sure, is an absolute, total, scruffy mess of a disaster.

Prompto is not any more sympathetic. Neither is Gladio. Somehow, he manages to get into his suit, pin the flowers to his lapel, climb into the car, and make it to the designated courtyard on time without throwing up or losing his nerve, but it’s a near thing. He stumbles out of the car, up to the altar, looks out over the assembled crowd, and tries hard not to faint. His friends, lined up in their places as groomsmen, offer encouraging words. It feels as though the entire population of all three involved countries is here watching him, he’s never been good with crowds, why did he ever agree to this-

And then she’s there.

The music starts playing, a swelling tune that has less to do with tradition than ceremony, and he turns, and she is there. She is dressed, once again, in white – a dazed and dazzled remnant of the back of his mind reminds him it’s her favorite color – but this time in a dress that befits a bride, long and billowing, like a ballgown, her arms clad in white, detached sleeves that flutter as she walks. The bouquet in her hands is made of sylleblossoms, and her veil is suspended from a tiara decorated with glittering crystal. Her steps are dainty, but her eyes behind the veil are locked on him, and she moves with a purpose that causes her dress to shift and flow and flutter around her. He can’t see anything, in that moment, but her – dressed in white, adorned with silver and crystal, and suddenly, he’s not afraid anymore. Or, rather, he’s afraid, but it’s worth it, it’s all worth it, because unworthy as he is, he’s _here_ and she’s _there_ and they are going to be _together_ , for the rest of their lives, til death do them part.

He almost doesn’t see her silent, white-clad shadow. Normally, it would be gauche for anyone but the bride to wear white on the wedding day, but Ravus Nox Fleuret has the right to wear what he wishes to walk his sister down the aisle. Their parents are gone, their mother of tragedy, their father of grief, and Noctis feels the weight of his regard, even if he is overshadowed by his radiant sister. He holds to Luna’s arm with a delicate grip, and there are tears in his eyes. Noctis can almost understand; to watch Luna leave is not a fate he wishes on any man who loves her. Yet Luna goes where she will; no one can deny her that.

She reaches the altar, the music stills. Noctis reaches out to take her hands, and his are shaking, but hers are perfectly calm. He wonders by what miracle that is, but he doesn’t speak. Even if he wanted to, he can’t, because he’s drowning in her lace-shrouded eyes.

Someone presents the rings. The one he slips on her finger is crusted in diamonds and sapphires, Tenebrae’s royal white and blue, mingled with flakes of jet for Lucian black. The one she presents to him is the royal signet ring of Lucis, a heavy black band with a white center stone carved with the Lucian crest, and he wonders how he never noticed his father give it up. The ceremony is being spoken around them and they are following along the words, but Noctis barely even notices himself speaking, because his mind is reeling with emotion. Ravus gives Luna away, the words are spoken over the rings, vows are said. Then the priest asks that fateful question, and Noctis’ heart is in his eyes as he stares deep into Luna’s.

‘I do,’ he says, and then the veil is pulled back, and their lips meet, and for a moment, the world is nothing but darkness and Luna.

As they finally pull away, he hears nearby sobbing, and he turns to see Prompto, standing in his designated spot as Best Man, _bawling his eyes out_ and he can’t help a small chuckle as Ignis quietly tries to console their crying friend. The wedding is over, the crowd begins to disperse. Altissia will be in festival spirit for the next week to commemorate the wedding, but right now, all Noctis cares about is standing with him – the woman he loves (his _wife!_ ) and his three best friends, and there’s a comfort in that.  Just to make sure this is all real, he kisses Luna again. It’s just as amazing as the first time.

Prompto’s camera comes out and wedding photos begin, and the rest of the week rolls by in a delirious craze of fun and festivity. There’s a honeymoon planned somewhere, but Noctis can’t remember where, and soon enough they’re on Cid’s boat again, this time without friends, and headed off for gods-know-where to get to know each other better.

The honeymoon is beautiful, spent on the sparkling beaches of Galdin Quay, but when it comes time to return home, Noctis is glad of it.

Living with someone else is strange; there’s always someone there when he wakes up in the morning, a warmth next to him in the bed. Or, sometimes there isn’t, just a slowly fading warm spot that he often finds himself in, because she’s a much earlier riser than he is. They follow through on their plan to get a house in the city, and there are servants who quietly go about their morning ways, and Noctis attends to reports delivered to him by mail or a faithful friend with enthusiasm he never showed as a teenager. Luna helps him through it, and takes on a fair amount of duties of her own, and things are good.

Things are less good when Ignis wrecks his car.

It isn’t careless driving, Noctis knows that, knows Iggy would never speed or take a curve too fast, but accidents happen. His friend is in pain and there’s little he can do to fix it. He comes home exhausted most nights, but Luna is there for him. In grief and in laughter, she si there. Sometimes it amazes him, how he can turn around and she is simply _there_ , after so many long years apart. Sometimes he reaches out to touch her, just because he can, because of the novelty of it and how it never gets old. Sometimes he cracks a joke or makes a comment, just so that, selfishly, he can hear her laughing. Life is so much better, he finds himself thinking, when he doesn’t have to do it by himself. She seems to agree with him, and it’s good.

They have their fights, like any couple.

Secretly, he’s grateful that they aren’t living in the Citadel, because it gives them time to have those fights, by themselves, like real people. He would never have the right or the self-confidence to lose his temper, to argue, to be angry, as Crown Prince to his Princess. As Noct and Luna, their spats have less at stake. He yells, and she seethes with calm anger that radiates off her like a glow, and they exchange harsh words, and at the end of the day, they reconcile. Sometimes at the end of the week. Neither knows how to back down, both are used to making their own choices. She is meticulous; he’s haphazard. For all their disagreements, they are stronger at the end of them.

Ignis heals. Noct and Luna’s relationship grows. He takes her to see his friends and they hit it off. No one lets Prompto live down crying at the wedding. No one lets Noct live down the expressions he makes when he thinks no one is looking. No one lets Luna feel left out or unwelcome. She adapts well – giving as good as she gets after long quiet moments where everyone forgets that her tongue is as sharp as Ignis’ some days. They think of her as a quiet, serious person until the smile on her face catches them in the back, and they love her for it. She becomes one of them, and Noct is grateful, so grateful. He couldn’t bear to have to choose between them.

They fulfill the other promises, too, that they made in those evenings by the canals of Altissia.

As time goes by, Regis gets sicker and sicker, and there’s nothing anyone can do. Noctis is there for him in his harder moments, though he’s always irritable and sore when he comes home from those visits. Yet it’s with grief, not annoyance – he loves his father and regrets all the years he didn’t understand that most simple of facts. He makes memories with him, introduces him to Luna, makes sure he knows that he is loved. He doesn’t want either of them to part with the other on a relationship built of bitterness and what-ifs and years of not talking to each other.

When Regis passes, then, Noct knows his father knew his love.

For weeks the prince is inconsolable. For weeks, the kingdom mourns. Black is the color of kings in Lucis; any other might be mourned in crimson or scarlet, but for the weeks after Regis dies, the whole kingdom is clad in Lucian black. Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto spend three weeks living with Noctis and Luna, urging their prince who is now their king to eat and sleep and take care of himself, before and after the funeral. Like the days after his wedding, these weeks go by in a dreamy haze, but this is the haze of a nightmare instead of a fairy tale. By the time of the funeral, Noct is so empty, he isn’t sure he has tears left to give. He can’t remember the words of the speech he gave there, after the fact. His eyes prove him wrong, and the ink, carefully laid down by Gladio at Ignis’ dictation, runs and swirls like the feelings inside his chest.

Once again, Luna is there.

She is his guiding light, his northern star, int hose dark days. As things at their home in the city are boxed up and spirited away and his whole life is shaking from the change, she is the one who quietly makes arrangements, for the funeral, for the servants, for the house to be kept as a summer cottage. She is the one who makes the royal suite feel like home, just a little, when it seems as though the word has lost all its meaning. She is the one who sits with him while he cries into the wee hours of morning, and gently soothes him back to sleep when a nightmare shakes him to the core.

As they did with Ignis, though, things get better.

Being king is a strange experience. There are so many things to do now, and so little time for friends or fun. It’s no wonder his father was old before his time, but he still has things to pull him away from work. Luna is always there for him, just as she always has been. She never ceases to find ways to surprise him, never stops being the most amazing thing about his life. With her help, he makes time for his people _and_ his life. He makes a vow to never stop venturing out into the world, doing hands-on what needs doing. She goes with him, often, tending to the sick and the wounded and the poor. They take Gladio and Ignis and Prompto with them. Not that any of the boys would let them go alone, but it only seems fair.

Sometimes he thinks back to that first moment – when he stepped off the boat, and saw her for the first time in gods-knew-how long. He thinks back to their wedding and what it meant to him. At the end of the day, whether that day ends in the Citadel or in a house in Insomnia or a hotel in Duscae, she is always there, waiting with a smile. Her golden hair and blue eyes are always waiting for him to turn his head to see them; her hand is always waiting to wrap its fingers with his, 

One night, after a particularly hard day, he comes home to find her waiting for him. It seems as though she’s been crying, and at first he’s alarmed, but her face is touched with that smile that seems like divine light from the heavens themselves. She reaches out to him, draws him into a tight hug; he wraps his arms around her in turn and waits. He doesn’t have to for long.

As he stares into her eyes, radiant with happy light, her lips form a sentence:

‘Lucis has an heir once more.’

For a moment, he doesn’t understand. After, though, it’s all he can do to keep from collapsing to his knees in pure and unadulterated joy. He takes her in his arms and spins her around, and then puts her down and freaks out because, oh gods, _what if he had hurt the child?_ But Luna laughs and tells him she’s not as fragile as all that – though strenuous activity will have to be kept to a minimum. He laughs, and cries, and smiles, and life is full again, life is beautiful again.

There are so many preparations for bringing a child into their home. The nursery must be cleaned out; things must be looked at and picked and bought. More than once, Noctis has, only half-jokingly, suggested they abscond with the child to their home in the city and do away with palaces for the first several years of its life. Luna laughs along, but preparations for doing so are not-so-jokingly made, just in case. They want their child to know and be known by the people as more than just a face on TV.

Of course, the boys tease them relentlessly. They’re the first to know, and the only ones to know for a long time, long enough to make sure that any accidents are unlikely. They rib Noctis good-naturedly and congratulate him sincerely; Gladio talks about what it was like when Iris was a child, as best he can remember, and Ignis offers advice gleaned from years of reading anything that he could get his hands on with text. Prompto makes lewd jokes until Noctis threatens to hit him, and then begins making jokes about Noctis never acting like a true king. Noctis rolls his eyes, quips about not being able to win with ‘you common people’, and secretly enjoys every moment of it. Names are discussed and weighed. By the time the news reaches the people, they’re sure they have at least one or two ideas of what to choose.

Luna gives birth in the dead of winter.

Noctis finds himself driving through inches of falling snow as his wife tries to smile through the pain. Every time she cries out, he feels his heart beat a little faster; almost too late, he remembers that his own mother died in childbirth. The idea of Luna, dead, no longer in his life, chills him more than the icy weather. He grips the steering wheel in both hands until his knuckles are white and tells himself he’s being silly. Still, when they reach the hospital, and the doctors take over, he can’t hide his anxiety – or the relief, hours later, as a man clad in sterile white bows and says, ‘She’s going to be fine, your majesty.’

When he’s finally allowed to go in to see her, he rushes to her side to make sure she’s alright. She holds onto the child – _their_ child – and smiles at him. The smile is exhausted, it’s worn and tired and a little battered, but it’s a smile, _her_ smile, and everything is going to be alright.

They name their daughter Illumina Nox Caelum. She has her parents’ blue eyes, her father’s dark hair, and her mother’s smile, and from the moment the nurse hands her to him, Noct is captivated. He leans against Luna’s bedside, cradling their daughter, and emotions overwhelm him; Luna wraps her arm around him, them, and he’s sure she’s feeling the same.

Of course, rounds of congratulations are in order from the boys. They showed up not too long before the birth, and they stay with Noct and Luna for a while after. Gladio drives the Regalia home with Noct in the back, anxious for tomorrow when he and Luna can return home, but tired as hell from the ordeal they’ve just gone through. They stay for another few nights after, helping put the finishing touches on the nursery, helping the exhausted new parents with the baby, despite Noct’s assurances that the servants can probably handle it if it gets too much for them.

As he settles down in bed with Luna, wrapping his arms gently around his exhausted wife, his thoughts turn towards the future, a little black-haired princess, growing up, going to school, meeting friends and boys and future partners in both life and love. He decides he wants her to have the freedom he had, growing up. He wants her to never be afraid of her duties or her title – but not of the outside world, either. He wonders, briefly, what his father felt, when this happened to him – what was going through his mind when he first held  a disheveled, black-haired prince.

He doesn’t really know what the future holds. Yet, as he feels  Luna roll over, snuggle closer to him, he realizes…

He’s looking forward to finding out.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine this playing during the wedding scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVcsZK9RdrY


End file.
